


Scars

by stardropdream



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 08:12:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Himawari is sick, and Watanuki sends Doumeki over to give her some homemade food.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ October 20, 2008.

The sun rose slowly, shining through her window. She blinked open her eyes and that was that. She lifted her head, brushing aside the tumbles of black hair blocking her vision for a moment. From his position on her unmoving shoulder, Tanpopo stirred and untucked his head from under a wing. He chirped once and nipped tenderly at her earlobe. She smiled at him absently, blinking the sleep from her eyes.

“Good morning, Tanpopo,” Himawari told the little yellow bird happily, smiling benignly.

She’d been sick the last few days, caught the flu that was circulating around school. Himawari knew she’d get better soon, in any case, because it’d be bad luck for her parents to have to deal with any strenuous medical bills, or something similar. That was the way she often operated in her thoughts—if something happened to her or those around her, it was somehow because of her. Perhaps she put too much importance in herself, but ever since the first time she realized she was the cause for countless peoples’ misfortune she would think this way.

She tiptoed downstairs, despite knowing the house was empty, keeping her steps light and her contact with objects as minimal as possible. She steered clear of the kitchen, just like she always did. Should her parents ever invite friends or coworkers home, it was necessary to keep things as lucky as possible, and that meant staying away from popular areas of the house.

Her parents always scolded her for the behavior, but she was doing what was best, she thought. They didn’t want her to isolate herself, and she knew that would only cause them unhappiness and, ultimately, cause herself unhappiness. She did what she could with the life she’d been given. In the end, perhaps she was selfish for not locking herself away.

Himawari didn’t like to think about it.

Her mother had left a thermos of tea for her, still warm. Himawari pulled out a chair at the table and sat down slowly, Tanpopo flapping comfortably to his typical perch on her shoulder. She poured herself the tea and released the tiniest of sighs.

It was shaping up to be an uneventful day when the doorbell rang. Himawari paused, surprised, cup halfway to her lips. Tanpopo chirped and flapped his wings once before taking off, already on his way to the door, cheeping as he went.

“Ah, Tanpopo!” Himawari said, standing to follow after the little bird.

She opened the door to a stone-faced Doumeki, holding a plastic bag from one hand. “Oi.”

“Doumeki-kun,” Himawari said in greeting, unable to hide her surprise.

He nodded and held out the bag. “Watanuki sent it. He wanted to give it himself but he had work.”

Himawari reached out a hand and grabbed the bag, careful not to touch any part of Doumeki’s hand. She peered inside the bag, and the warmth and the scent wafted upwards as she inhaled. She closed her eyes for a moment, ducking her head. When she looked up, she was smiling, and said, “Thank you, Doumeki-kun.”

“Hn.”

“I’ll thank Watanuki-kun when I can come back to school,” Himawari decided with a small nod.

“He said he’s coming by after work, to make sure I delivered it properly,” Doumeki said, blasé.

Himawari looked away. “He doesn’t have to do that.”

Doumeki was quiet, betraying nothing in his face as he observed her. Himawari refused to make eye contact, covering up her discomfort by shifting through the bag, counting the contents in the plastic bag, of the delicious food that Watanuki had prepared just for her. She was torn between being scared and thankful for his continued generosity.

“He made a lot of food,” Doumeki said at last.

Himawari laughed, though it didn’t sound quite as genuine as she would have liked. “Would… Doumeki-kun like some of the food?”

“Sure.”

 

\---

 

“Is it good?” Himawari asked as Doumeki took a hefty bite of Watanuki’s food.

“Hn.”

“Watanuki-kun is so talented,” Himawari said absently, eating her food at a much slower pace but no less enjoying the food she had.

“Hn.”

“Thanks for bringing the food over, Doumeki-kun. You should tell him I got it just fine and it was delicious, when you see him next.”

“You’ll see him before me.”

Himawari looked down at her plate, eyes hooded. She shrugged one shoulder. “By the time he’s done with work, I’ll already be sleeping, I think. The sickness has made me a lot more tired lately. And I’m sure that since Doumeki-kun and Watanuki-kun get along so well they’ll be sure to find something to do together without me.”

Doumeki leveled her with a firm look, on the surface looking just as blank and uninterested as he always did, but his eyes floored her and captured her ability to speak. She swallowed and had to look away, covering up the move with the tiniest of coughs and an outstretched hand for a tissue.

He grabbed her hand before she could reach it. She froze, shocked.

He still wasn’t looking away from her. “He wants to see you.”

“… I know,” Himawari said after a pregnant pause, her hand lax in his grip, fingers curling until her knuckles turned a distant white. She nodded her head absently, as if Doumeki hadn’t already heard her admission.

“Do you not want to see him?”

“That’s not it…” Himawari trailed off, tugging on her hand idly. He let go. She pulled it back to her lap, where it flopped uselessly and didn’t move. She stared down at her plate, down at the food that Watanuki had made with love and care.

“He doesn’t care about that,” Doumeki said firmly.

Himawari was very quiet for a long moment. “I know that. It’s because Watanuki-kun is too kind that he’ll…”

“He’d want you to be happy.”

Himawari brushed the hair falling over her shoulder back over her back, covering up the back of her neck as best she could. Tanpopo stirred, turning his little head and watching her with keen black eyes. She said nothing. Doumeki was silent, too.

Finally, after the silence had stretched on for a long, unbearable minute for Himawari, she smiled absently and said, “I’m happy as long as he’s safe.”

Doumeki didn’t say anything for a long moment. Himawari took the opportunity to stand up and collect the empty plates. She turned away and moved to the kitchen, happy for a free moment away from Doumeki’s all too knowing looks.

She was placing the dishes in the sink when she froze. A hand was on her back, gentle but undeniably there. She stiffened visibly, her eyes widening in shock as she stared at the wall in front of her. She didn’t dare move, didn’t dare try and understand what was going on. She swallowed thickly and Tanpopo looked up at her curiously. The hand on her back didn’t move.

“… Doumeki-kun?” Himawari asked hesitantly, frozen at the sudden contact of a hand on her back, commanding but gentle.

The boy didn’t say anything right away, just silently brushed her hair away from her back. Himawari didn’t say anything as he slowly moved his hand to the small of her back.

“Hm?” Himawari asked, trying to throw together some semblance of normalcy.

“Do they still hurt?” he asked, hand still there and his expression serious, but concerned.

Himawari hesitated, considered lying. But it was nearly impossible to lie to someone like Doumeki.

“… Not as much as before,” she relented, shoulders sagging. “They tear open and start bleeding so they have to re-scar, and they’re deep, so it takes a while for them to ‘heal.’”

“Can you even reach them?” Doumeki asked, and knew not to ask if someone had helped her, because he knew Himawari would not ask for help on something like that.

“No,” Himawari admitted.

“Hn.” Doumeki sounded displeased. “Why do they not heal?”

“Because it’s my punishment for what happened,” Himawari said lightly. “Doumeki-kun and Syaoran-kun don’t have residual effects from the prices they paid, because what happened to Watanuki-kun wasn’t their faults. It was my fault he’d fallen, so I have to pay for what happened.”

“It wasn’t your fault either,” Doumeki murmured, staying close to her.

Himawari shook her head. “It’s my curse.”

“But you have no control over it.”

“But I’m still responsible.”

Doumeki cursed lightly under his breath and sounded as if he were going to say more.

Himawari smiled at the floor, and Tanpopo chirped quietly on her shoulder. She whispered, “I try to have a normal life, try to be happy so that my parents won’t worry. But I’m afraid to get close to people because that means that those people might get hurt. I stay near them, so it’s my fault.”

“Someone who’s isolated can never be happy.”

“I know,” Himawari whispered. “I ask myself all the time if I deserve happiness.”

“You do.”

“Hm…”

“You do!” he repeated firmly, eyebrows knitting together.

Himawari looked to the side, eyes hooded and expression pained. She was thankful that, for the time being, Doumeki could not see her face. “… I want happiness.”

Himawari was about to say more when Doumeki’s hand left the small of her back and both hands reached around, pushing out the buttons to her uniform. Her eyes opened in shock. She stiffened further and he paused, not moving.

“Doumeki-kun…?” she asked, her face turning slightly pink.

He was silent, calculating his words and weighing them considerably in his head. She swallowed and ducked her head, staring in shock at the hands on her blouse.

“I won’t do anything.”

“I know,” Himawari murmured. “But…?”

“I can touch you and I won’t get hurt,” he reminded as he undid the final button. She watched, fascinated and yet terrified.

“A-ah,” she murmured, ducking her head as he pulled off her shirt and unsnapped her bra. She crossed her arms and said nothing, feeling his keen eyes tracing the scars and knowing she could trust him.

He wasn’t sure where to put his hands, so he placed them on her hips, holding onto her protectively. She was tense, but she didn’t try to run away. He looked over her scars with a frown. They were jagged and angry; they looked painful.

“Don’t move,” he said gently, taking a step back and leaving to go find a first aid kit. He was only gone for a short while, and when he returned, she was still in the same position as before, back exposed and her arms curled around her front, as a form of protection, a way to keep herself safe inside. Blood oozed slowly from her wounds.

He went to her, keeping his touch gentle as he treated her wounds as best he could.

“I’m not ashamed of them,” she said after a very long silence. Doumeki didn’t speak, sensing she had more to say. “These scars are why Watanuki-kun is alive. I’d take all of this scars, always, if it meant that he wouldn’t disappear.”

“Why do you hide them?” Doumeki asked.

Himawari hesitated. “Because it’s Watanuki-kun. He’d worry over me and blame himself if he saw them. And I don’t want him to think that these scars are painful.”

“But they are.”

“But I deserve it, so it’s okay.”

Doumeki paused and then wrapped his arms around her stomach, tugging her back against his chest, placing his face in her hair.

“He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself, either.”

“I know,” she murmured.

He kept her close, holding her and listening to the hammering of her heart. He kissed her temple. “Don’t say you deserve it when it’s not true.”

“Doumeki-kun…”

“If you show him your scars, he’d do what he could so that you’d never be unhappy again,” Doumeki paused, and pulled her closer still, mindful of her scars. “I’ll do the same.”

Himawari clenched her eyes shut, willing away the desire to cry.

“So it’s okay, to show yourself to us.”

“… Yes,” she said with a watery smile. “I understand, Doumeki-kun.”

“These scars don’t make you ugly,” he added, “So don’t think that, either.”

“… Okay,” she murmured.

He let go of her only to spin her around. She kept her arms firmly over her chest, face red, as he bent down and kissed her softly. She closed her eyes and let him, hesitant but not unwilling.

He kissed her until she began to think that maybe she was beautiful, even with the scars.


End file.
